A few weeks back, just in time for Christmas, I took a swipe at the homeless in what I consider to be a fair, albeit poorly-timed article.
Well, I figure, why not take another spin on that carousel of curmudgeonry and tackle another topic that’ll prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that I’m destined to die miserable and alone, like Andy Rooney, Bill O’Reilly and Steven Colbert.
I’m going after moms. Certainly not my mom, whom I love very much and want to thank for all the brand new bath towels she got me for Christmas, but the current pandemic of stroller-pushing moms that are running rampant through Hoboken like the biker gangs of old (note: I realize pandemic denotes a widespread geographic area, but gosh darn if it’s not the new alarmist buzzword – so if other media outlets can misuse it just to sound impressive, then why should I be denied?)
God help you if you should ever encounter one of these stroller-pushing mamas on a tight sidewalk. Don’t be surprised if they clip your ankle in a crowded store, then shoot you a look that says, “Hey, I’m $*@%!^& strollin’ here!”
Or worse yet, you bump into a pack off them as they walk side by side like a bunch of Sunday drivers hogging up the thoroughfare with their little baby SUVs. And if you think that’s a farfetched analogy, check out the tires and suspensions on some of these bad boys, or better yet check out the strollers at www.jeep.com. I kid you not, they offer a Wrangler, Wagoneer and Cherokee model.
My problem is not the fact that these people are breeding. My problem is the fact that based on the rudeness, recklessness and self-absorption of some of the parents, a lot of these kids are going to grow up to be real jackasses.
To the new moms out there, I say congratulations on experiencing the joy and wonder of motherhood. However, unless you caught me on some epic whiskey binge at least nine months ago that I’ve completely forgotten about, I’m pretty sure your child is not my responsibility, so don’t treat me like it’s my duty to shoulder any of the burden.
Despite whatever opinions you may formulate reading this column week after week, my mother actually raised me right, so normally I’ll hold open doors or step to the side or assist in any way someone encumbered with a stroller. But when I see moms who just plow these mobile monstrosities into tiny shops with no regard for any of their fellow shoppers, I get a bit miffed.
Park the “Baby Blazer” outside if it’s too tight – you don’t see people dragging their bicycles in and out of stores, do you? Moms need to be conscious of the fact that they’re now pushing around a small wheelbarrow, and it can be awkward to maneuver. Moms also need to be conscious of the scientific law stating no two pieces of matter may occupy the same space at the same time.
This law also comes into play when these moms decide to emerge from behind parked cars and shove their children in the middle of intersections without so much as breaking stride to check for traffic. When the oncoming vehicles with clear right of way and no way of seeing the stroller until the last second screech to a halt, the moms sneer at the drivers as though they were monsters who were intentionally trying to kill their baby. Yet the mothers themselves are the ones who thought it was a good idea to push their child into traffic.
I’m not saying moms should stay home and keep their babies out of sight, out of mind. Believe it or not, I actually like children, provided they belong to somebody else. But we all know Hoboken is a small town, and moms should certainly be aware it’s getting smaller since they’ve just added at least one to the population. All I’m suggesting is a little common courtesy and a little common sense. It’s never too early to teach that to the wee young ‘uns…
So there you have it – first the homeless, and now moms.
What’s next? Could it be three-legged kittens? Maybe that pesky playground noise? Or how about those little kids selling candy on the street? You’ll just have to keep reading to find out what menace I will zero in on next. In the meantime, honor thy mother, but feel free to tell someone else’s to get the hell out of your way.
(For more inane rants like this one, check out The Colbert Report, weeknights at 11:30 on Comedy Central. It’s pronounced “Colbare Repore” – he saves the T’s for the Truth.)
Christopher M. Halleron, freelance writer/bitter bartender, writes a biweekly humor column for The Hudson Current and websites in the New York Metro area. He spends a lot of his time either in front of or behind the bar in Hoboken, New Jersey where his tolerance for liquor grows stronger as his tolerance for society is eroded on a daily basis. Feel free to drop him a line at c_halleron@yahoo.com.